


Despite the Mess

by delighted



Series: Mess [3]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 02:59:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9637961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: For those who wanted more of a... resolution... for the boys afterCocktails and Lullabies.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I’d had some thoughts of where this was likely to go, but Steve (and Danny) had other ideas.... and I loved where they went, so I didn’t fight it.  
> 
> This series has been so slow in coming, and I’m very sorry about that... hopefully it will be a little bit worth the wait.
> 
> Music note: Steve plays his guitar again.... A song by Makana, called “Napo’o Ka La,” which from what I can work out means something about the movement of the sun, which I love because I always feel like to Steve, Danny is very like the sun. I also find myself thinking it’s a “very Steve song” every time I hear it.... [Here’s a link](https://youtu.be/GvzXanYm80A), if you want to listen.

When Steve awoke the next morning, it was early—very early, still-dark early—and the smell of coffee filled the air. Smiling, because it meant Danny was in his house, then sighing, because it meant Danny wasn’t sleeping, he got up, grabbed a tee shirt, and headed downstairs.

The light was on in the kitchen, and a pot of coffee was brewed. Next to it sat a mug. He filled it, then found the only other light on—in the dining room. Danny was sitting at “his” place, so Steve sat down at his own, across from Danny.

“Hey, babe, sorry to wake you,” Danny said, softly, a little forlornly, as he looked up at Steve through his eyelashes. His eyes were red, but Steve wasn’t sure if he’d been crying, or was just sleepless and exhausted.

Steve shook his head dismissively. “What’s up, buddy?” He asked.

“Oh,” Danny laughed a little self-deprecating laugh. “Just musing over the mess I’ve made of my life.”

Steve took a sip of coffee, to stall for time, to figure out how to play this; kicking himself for not being faster to get his brain working in the talking department. If there’d been a physical threat, he’d have been in his element, but waking him up and throwing him directly into an emotional entanglement—and with the man he’d been in love with for so long he’d forgotten what it felt like to not hurt like this—well, he was struggling to form a sentence. He wished they’d been on the sofa. If he could have been touching Danny, he thought he might be able to say something helpful. But with the entire dining room table between them, he felt lost. It was almost as if his own ability to say the right thing came from Danny himself, through proximity if not touch. He was too far away, or maybe he just wasn’t awake enough yet. He sighed.

“Danny.”

He swallowed and found his throat was burning. Closing his eyes reflexively, he surprised himself when he found his eyes were wet. Swearing silently at himself, he swallowed harder and forced his eyes open. The light was dim enough that maybe Danny wouldn’t see the tears, as long as they didn’t fall.

Somehow that gave him what he needed, and he pulled himself together to try and be what he thought Danny needed right now.

“How has this been your fault?” He asked. Not in a dismissive, scolding way. He was trying for the tone his mother would use when he was taking all the blame for something—like a loss in football, or a fight with his friends—an “alright, you messed up, tell me how, tell me exactly what you did” tone. It worked with him, maybe it would work on Danny.

From the way Danny sat up, took a deep breath, and set his mug down (Steve suspected Danny’d not even had a sip), he was pretty sure it was at least a good attempt.

“Alright,” Danny started. “Let’s see. Falling for Rachel?” He huffed out a bitter laugh.

Steve felt his eyebrows go up, because _if Danny was going to start with_ _that_....

Danny got there faster: “But then I wouldn’t have Grace.” He closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair. “Getting back with her, though. That was....” He sighed. “You tried to warn me, didn’t you?” Danny said, so softly Steve almost didn’t hear it.

Steve swallowed slowly, almost not able to. He’d been _so_ close to telling Danny how he felt, that day in the hospital. He’d been on his way to tell him, right then, right when he walked in and saw Rachel in Danny’s hospital bed with him. So, yeah, he’d maybe tried to hint to Danny that getting back with the woman who’d ripped his heart out and stomped on it was maybe not the wisest move.... But he shook his head slightly, and didn’t dare look at Danny. He knew the truth would be in his eyes, flashing like neon signs.

“You did, though,” Danny said, the sad smile coming through his tone. He sighed heavily, and Steve opened his eyes, looking at Danny, he hoped with encouragement. “But if I hadn’t done that, then I wouldn’t have Charlie.” Danny smiled. Three tears fell from his eyes on the table and Steve swore silently. If Danny was going to cry, Steve was not sure he’d be able to keep his own tears in his eyes.

“Alright,” Steve forced himself to keep to his mother’s methods. “So, what else?”

Danny huffed out an amused, slightly surprised laugh. Steve found it encouraging—Danny seemed to be appreciating what Steve was doing, and he took that as a very good sign. “Okay... well. My relationships other than that haven’t exactly been stellar.”

Steve made a “keep going” gesture, and hid his face in his coffee cup, pretending to take a sip.

“Gabby was never going to stay,” Danny said, as though he was only now realizing it, or at least finally admitting it to himself. “I think I knew that all along, I think maybe that was why she was safe.”

Steve knew he looked puzzled. He’d thought Danny had really liked Gabby, and had wanted her to stay....

Danny sighed. “Same with Melissa,” he continued, sitting forward, leaning on the table. “How did I ever think that was going to work? It’s almost like I didn’t want it to. Each step, each time she wanted more, I knew it was something I was never going to live up to.”

That, Steve understood; _that_ he had seen. They’d all seen it— _when Danny couldn’t tell her he loved her_. Steve’d had a spark of hope then, that he hadn’t felt for a long time... not since Danny’s response to having a building fall on him had been to take her to Maui.

It was the wrong thing to have remembered, Steve scolded himself. He’d thought his heart would never recover from that blow. Using the cover of trying to think what to say, Steve put his hands to his face, wiped his eyes he hoped discretely, cleared his throat, tried to make it look like he was thinking.

“So, why do you think you did that?” He finally asked. “What do you mean it was safe?”

Sitting back in his chair, Danny’s hands went to his head, grabbing onto his hair, mussing it up. He sank back down after, and it was like he’d let something go, something he’d been fighting.

“Because,” he said, on an exhale. “They weren’t you.” His words were solid, his tone was no longer wavering, no longer self-deprecating. Honest, and utterly, boldly open.

And just like that, everything cleared: it was like someone had turned a fan on and all the smoke had been sucked out of Steve’s head. He was on alert. He’d stopped breathing.

“Gabby was safe because it was never going to last. Amber—ahh, _Melissa_ —was safe because that was never going to work.” Danny was still leaning back in his chair, but his posture had taken on this confidence, this certainty. Steve didn’t know what to make of it. Danny was smiling at him, and it was kind of weirding Steve out. Just when Steve was feeling uncomfortably like Danny was going to leave it at that, he continued. “And that was what I wanted. Something that wasn’t going to work, something that wouldn’t last.” He paused, smiled, took a sip of his coffee. Steve was beginning to think that Danny was intentionally driving him crazy. He thought about giving in and asking “Why?” But he knew if he opened his mouth, words would fail him and he’d either say something completely stupid, or more likely, he’d just stammer and fall over himself.

Danny set his mug down. Leaned forward. Smiled. Looked Steve intently in the eyes, and repeated: “Because they weren’t you.”

At least Steve thought that’s what he said. He couldn’t really be sure, because his heart was beating so loudly in his ears he was beginning to be afraid he’d pass out.

Danny was smiling at him, grinning almost. Looking _pleased_ with himself?

Steve couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak.

“They were safe because they weren’t you. _You_ ,” Danny pressed his lips together till the smile broke through. “You most definitely are _not_ safe.” He put an elbow up on the table, rested his head in his hand, smiled in that knowing way that was starting to really freak Steve out. “ _You_ are fourteen kinds of dangerous. You are a walking disaster. You will be the death of me, in more ways than I can count.” He paused, on a soft, thoughtful sigh; shifted gears. “You clean up my mess.” He swallowed. “You keep me together. You drive me absolutely _crazy_ —but it keeps me _together_.” He put his arm down, folded them together on the table, leaned a bit more forward. “That should have shown me, shouldn’t it. They made me a mess. But you... you keep me going. Through all of it.” His eyes were glistening. He pulled back from the table. He was trying to not cry. “Why do you do that?” He asked, voice almost breaking.

It was Steve’s turn to smile knowingly. “Why do you think?” He asked, softly.

Danny let out a breath that quivered with emotion.

They sat in silence for a while. The weight of what had just happened was keeping Steve still—he wasn’t sure how to break from it. His mind was racing, and yet going nowhere. Like one of those electric toy car racetracks he’d had as a kid. Just around and around in a loop, hypnotic, going nowhere fast. It was all sitting there, on the table. This was it, this was how it would change. There was no putting it back in the box now. And it wasn’t earth shattering. There was no thunder, or lightning, or explosion. Just the sun, slowly creeping towards the horizon, the sky slowly turning from black to purple. The love birds were swooping through the trees outside, always in pairs, always with their partner. The air was still. Steve still felt like he was holding his breath.

He picked up his mug of coffee and stood. Holding out his other hand to Danny: “Come with me.”

Danny smiled, held onto his coffee, and took Steve’s hand.

He led them back upstairs, ducking into his room to grab his guitar, handing Danny his coffee, and out to the lanai. They took up their seats of the night before. Danny was looking brighter than Steve had seen him in a very long time, and that was giving him some kind of strength he hadn’t known he had. Not physical strength. Something in his heart. Maybe it was healing, maybe it just felt like it was becoming more whole. But it was inspiring him, pushing him, bolstering him—in the way Danny’s presence had always done for him, but more so. So much more so. He felt like he could soar. There was only one song he could think to play. He had two songs he played that he associated with Danny... the lullaby, which he used to soothe himself when he couldn’t sleep. But there was another that... well. It was the closest he came to feeling like he could express how Danny made him feel. He didn’t do that well with words, not even to himself. But the song somehow captured that soaring feeling.

While he played it, he didn’t look at Danny. He kept his eyes on the guitar, or closed them. He needed that time to gather himself, collect himself, bring himself back within himself.... It worked. The familiar strains of the tune, the physical memory of the chords, calmed him, strengthened him. By the time he finished the song, he felt... ready. For what, he didn’t know, but that was okay.

When he set his guitar down, Danny stood. He stepped carefully around the table, and sat down next to Steve on the wicker sofa. As he leaned in, resting against Steve’s chest, Steve’s arm went around him. It was at once familiar and new. They’d wound up like this a number of times, drawing comfort from each other without asking. So the touch was familiar. The intent behind it, though, that was new. And it made the whole thing feel different.

“Can you take the day off?” Danny asked, softly, his voice vibrating inside Steve’s body, almost making him shiver.

Steve felt the smile spread across his face, warmth flooding his body all the way to his toes. “Yeah, I’d like that,” he echoed Danny’s words from the morning before. “I’ll call Kono,” he said after a while longer. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the bubble it felt like they were floating in.

He felt Danny take a breath. “Better let me,” he said, softly.

So, he’d been right. In response, he pulled Danny closer. Kicking his feet up on the table, he sighed. “Anyone else?” He asked, knowing his voice was filled with the smile he just couldn’t keep off his face.

“Well Morimoto, obviously, although he wasn’t exactly surprised,” Danny mused. “As soon as I asked about the cocktail... I mean, obviously asking for the food was kind of a give away, but somehow, the cocktail.... You should have seen the look on his face.” He paused, tried to pull back to look at Steve, but Steve was holding him so tight, he gave up. “I’d say he looked pleased, but it was more like relief?” Steve really didn’t want Danny to see his face right now. He was not ready for the whole “how long” conversation. As if Danny sensed that, he settled more firmly against Steve, and brought his legs up to rest against Steve’s on the table. “And, Grace....” A pause. “But then you beat me to that one, didn’t you?”

“Actually, Danny, I think she beat us both there.” Steve wondered if he should say the next part, but he kind of wanted to see how Danny would react. “And your mother, as well....”

Danny laughed. “That would not surprise me. She always liked you best.” Danny took a sharp breath in as if he was realizing something. “In fact... huh.”

“Hmm?” Steve asked, when Danny didn’t finish the thought.

“Oh, nothing, just wondering how long she’s wanted this.”

Thinking of the note she’d written inside the book he’d found in Danny’s living room, Steve had a similar thought: “She and Doris both,” he admitted.

He was pretty sure he could feel a realization flash through Danny. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I think she might have tried to hint something at me the last time I saw her....”

Steve’s reflexive bitterness regarding his mother eased slightly as he agreed, softly: “I’m sure she did.”

“What about the guys?” Danny asked, hesitantly, bringing a hand up to rest over Steve’s heart.

He took a shaky breath in. “I, uh, I think they might have a pool going....” Steve felt Danny go still. “Ah, Danny, let ‘em have their fun. They’ve put up with us....”

“ _Put up_ with us?” Danny exclaimed. “They’ve had plenty of fun _teasing_ us for years.”

“ _Well_....” Steve replied, drawing it out.

“Yeah, okay, fair point.” And on that, Danny did sit back, look Steve in the eye, and Steve’s heart skipped a beat. He was pretty sure Danny’s eyes had become bluer in the past few minutes. They were no longer red, and they looked brighter, clearer, and more decided than he’d seen them in a long time. Happier, too—he hoped that wasn’t just wishful thinking.

But Steve didn’t have too long to worry about that because Danny was kissing him. Not the soft kiss of the night before, but a confident, claiming kiss that was powered by the revelations, admissions, the giving in of the early, early morning. It didn’t last nearly long enough, however, before Danny broke it to yawn.

Steve hid his amusement, but probably not very well.

“Oh, that’s embarrassing. I uh, didn’t exactly go to sleep after...well.”

“After you kissed me?” Steve finished the thought for him.

Danny grinned. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t much either,” Steve allowed. “Shall we?” And he stood, and offered Danny his hand. “Think you could sleep now?”

“Horrifyingly, yes,” Danny admitted.

Steve shook his head. “Not horrifying. I’m honored, actually.”

Danny pulled Steve close as they walked inside. “You would be all chivalrous and stuff.”

“Absolutely,” Steve replied, and though it wasn’t exactly what’d he’d had in mind doing with Danny in his bed, it meant Danny was _in his bed_ , and he’d take it. For now.

 

It didn’t take long, once they’d settled against each other in Steve’s bed, for them to fall soundly asleep. Steve knew Danny was usually a restless sleeper, so when he woke first he tried not to move, so as to not wake him. They lay on their sides, Danny’s back tightly against Steve’s chest, his head slotted perfectly under Steve’s chin. Danny had Steve’s arm pulled tightly to his heart, his own hand holding it firmly in place, as tightly as he’d held onto his hair that first morning. Steve felt a smile form on his lips as he remembered that morning, and was grateful to be in bed and comfortable... and he tried very hard not to think too much about tightly pressed bodies.

As familiar as Steve was with the progress of the morning sun across the bedroom, he could tell the approximate time without looking at his watch. Danny’d said to let him call Kono, and it might be a moot point because if Steve tried to move, Danny would probably wake, but there was part of him that wanted to hear her voice if he called. Of course, he could always just text her. But where would be the fun in that? He had a while before he needed to worry about that, though. It was usually about now that he’d be getting up to go swim, or paddle board. Having Danny in his arms was a trade-off he was absolutely willing to make.

It made him very happy that Danny was so comfortable there. He guessed it shouldn’t surprise him—as easy as they’d been with each other from so early on, close proximity had always just been accepted. He wasn’t really sure when that had started—or who had started it—it just always had been. They sat too close, did the arm-around-the-sofa thing, hugged, stood with their arms around each other. It was part of what got them teased by the rest of the team, but they’d always just been at ease with it. Maybe there’d been more to it all along; Steve wasn’t insightful enough with his own emotions to know for certain. What he was more than certain about was that now they’d broken through this... whatever that had been... they were set. Everything had shifted. And yet, it felt the same. More like it was finally _right_ than actually being different? As if all along something had been wrong, something out of place, and now it was finally the way it should be. He’d heard people say things like that before. And he’d never thought it made sense. But now he knew.

Danny slowly began to stir beside him. It was like sleeping with a very large cat, Steve found himself thinking.

“Mmmmm,” Danny sighed, pressing back against Steve, hugging his arm even more tightly, the sound in his chest reverberating against Steve—a sensation that was quickly becoming one of his favorite things. “Morning, babe,” Danny slurred sleepily. 

Steve had years of experience talking to Danny when he was still half asleep, usually over the phone but also in person... but never like this. He had, quite often, wondered what it would be like to be in this position for those moments. He’d imagined it. Longed for it. But his wildest imaginings hadn’t even come close. This was so much better than he could have dreamed. Unable to prevent the tide of emotions that pushed at him, he found himself kissing the top of Danny’s head as he whispered “Good morning, sleepy head,” back.

It seemed Danny liked that, either the kiss or the words, maybe both, as he squirmed against Steve, practically purring. Turning over in Steve’s arms, Danny kissed him once briefly. “Morning breath,” he whispered, but smiled.

“What are we going to do today?” Steve asked, reaching out a hand to smooth Danny’s hair back from his face—all the times he’d wanted so badly to do just that, rushing through him, almost in some kind of electric impulse. It was something he was going to do a lot of, he knew. That thought made him feel like he was glowing.

“I’m going to make you pancakes,” Danny said, closing his eyes at the touch, opening them again, looking intently into Steve’s. “And you are going to make coffee—it’s better when you make it.” Steve started to smirk. “Then you are going to swim, because I kind of suspect you’re too much to deal with if you don’t.” Steve almost blushed, but Danny’d hinted at it before—days Steve was in a bad mood, Danny would often ask him if he’d skipped his morning swim, and the answer was usually “yes.” Thinking briefly that there might be some benefits to them being together that he’d not yet thought of, Steve pulled Danny closer, kissing the top of his head again.

“Alright,” he told Danny’s sun bleached hair. “But then let’s do something together.”

“You could play for me more,” Danny started, uncertainly. “Something else that’s not a lullaby?”

Steve found his heart filling with a warmth he didn’t fully understand, but he was fairly sure it was connected to white cats and microwaved eggs and conversations about emotions.

“Yeah, bud, I’d like that.”

“Good,” Danny said, and got up and headed for the bathroom.

Steve laid back on an exhalation that sent shivers up his own spine. In the golden morning sunlight that filled his room, Danny looked positively gilded. Shaking his head to stop his mind going where it so badly wanted to go, Steve got up and threw on his swim trunks, then bounded down the stairs to make coffee. He was waiting for the kettle to boil, grounds already measured out in the French press—extra strong, just the way he knew Danny liked it best—when Danny came into the kitchen, giving Steve an appraising look that made him shiver again.

“What’s that look for?” Steve asked, as Danny stood too far away, grinning.

“Oh, I just like watching you make coffee.....”

Steve felt an odd apprehension slither across his skin. His head tilted to the side, eyebrows went up. “Umm...?” He asked.

“It’s coffee, Steven,” Danny said, around his smile. “But you take it so seriously.”

Steve couldn’t help it, he let out a laugh. Because that was so, so ironic. “Oh, Danny,” he began, his tone filled, he knew, with at least a little hint of the emotions behind Steve’s ritualistic tendencies when it came to coffee.

“What?” Now Danny looked apprehensive.

Steve sighed, leaned back against the counter, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I never used to.” His smile probably conveyed some of the bittersweet feelings Steve was having about just how long he’d wanted Danny in his kitchen in the morning like this—directly from his bed.

Danny’s look of apprehension increased.

Steve knew he wasn’t going to hide how long he’d wanted this, he wouldn’t have been able to, not now, even if he’d wanted. He sighed. “Then this guy came into my life who required coffee like most people require air. It was a necessary life skill. So, yeah, I take it seriously.”

Evidently Danny wasn’t missing the implications. He looked torn about how to reply; settled for stuttering awkwardly, rolling his eyes, and getting the ingredients together for pancakes.

Steve smiled smugly, enjoying watching Danny so flustered.  

Once the pancakes were done, they took their plates and mugs of coffee out to the lanai. They sat too close, Danny put his legs up on Steve’s, the way he did sometimes when he was feeling especially relaxed and—so Steve always felt—territorial. They ate too fast and too much, making fun of each other’s horrible table manners as they did, stopping to kiss not often enough. They drank too much coffee which was too strong and Steve at least felt too giddy. He kind of wanted every day to begin like this and at the same time knew he’d never be able to handle it.

Danny made him go swim, when they’d finished, pushing him towards the water with a rough shove, and telling him he’d clean up. Steve wasn’t sure at all he’d manage a decent swim, as hyped up as he felt—not enough sleep, too much sugar, too much caffeine, and far, far too much unresolved sexual tension. It was a very powerful combination. But still, he tried. You’d think he’d have been able to call upon some of his special training to deal with the adrenaline. Oddly, the United States government had not seen fit to equip Navy SEALs with the means to deal with this kind of situation, and he was finding his mind was behaving in an exceptionally adolescent manner. Still, he managed, somehow—autopilot he very much suspected—to swim just about his usual amount. By the time he came back to shore, panting slightly, and absolutely no less... amped up than he had been when he left, Danny was sitting there, in his chair at the edge of the sand, hair still mussed, still in his sleeping clothes, still drinking coffee (it was terrifying the amount of caffeine Danny could put away and still be his usual self), still looking incredibly, unbelievably, undeniably _hot_. Steve’s swim trunks were baggy but not _that_ baggy, and he could tell, without following Danny’s eyes, that Danny knew.

Danny stood, put down his mug, and pulled Steve—wet, salty, breathless Steve—against him and into a kiss.

“Danny,” Steve practically groaned.

Danny pulled Steve closer. “You’re wet,” he growled.

“Uh-huh,” Steve somehow managed, because, _crap_ this was too much.

Steve felt like he must have blacked out for a moment there because all of a sudden Danny had him by the hand and was leading him back to the house, up the stairs, into his bathroom, into the shower before the water was warm enough, and was pulling his trunks down, pressing him back against the shower wall, and Steve swore he’d never complain about how long Danny took in the shower ever, ever again.

Danny still had his clothes on, which Steve somehow found even hotter, but before he could think anymore about that, Danny was dragging him _out_ of the shower, taking his clothes off, leaving them in a heap on the bathroom floor ( _oh god_ , was he going to be okay with this kind of mess, a very small part of his brain asked meekly, to which the rest of him replied _shut the hell up_ ), drying them off in a very perfunctory way, and shoving Steve down on the bed so hard he bounced.

Then Danny was on him, all over him, pressing and kissing, and Steve thought there was no way he could last and he wanted this to go on forever and he realized in absolute shock that he was crying. It didn’t take long, either one of them, but they didn’t stop kissing, holding, pressing, just needing so much to be _close_.

Steve felt tears dripping on his cheeks and noticed Danny was crying as well. They started laughing, and fell finally apart, Danny rolling over to grab the towel to wipe them clean, then draping himself over Steve like a blanket, half on half off.

Glancing at the clock by his bed, Steve realized they might not have to decide who called Kono because she was probably about to call one or both of them. Sure enough, almost as if on cue, Steve’s phone rang. Danny grabbed it before Steve could stop him.

“Hey, Kono,” Danny purred. Steve smacked him on the chest which was probably a mistake because the sound was louder than he’d thought. “Yeah, he’s here, but I think he needs to take it easy today.”

Steve couldn’t hear Kono’s response but he could hear her tone. He blushed.

“Yeah, give us a call if you need, we’ll just be here resting.”

Steve had to hand it to Danny, he didn’t leave any layers of tone in the word “resting,” but he knew Kono would take them freely herself.

Danny grinned. “Thanks, Kono.” He held the phone up to Steve and gestured for him to say something.

Steve rolled his eyes and called out “Thanks, Kono,” and grabbed the phone from Danny and hung up, tossing it a little too violently on the floor, and pulling Danny on top of him, forcing him down for a kiss.

“ _You_ ,” he said when he let Danny up for air, “are in _trouble_.”

Danny bit his lip. “Good,” he said, and bent back down for more.

 

Eventually they were hungry again. Steve found Danny’s phone and called for pizza. They ate it in bed, which Danny evidently found the most delightful of all possible things. They drank not-very-cold white wine from the bottle. They ate peppermint patties and kissed. Danny got Steve to play more on his guitar. They went for a swim which was more about kissing than swimming. They had two more showers, both lasting a lot longer. And Kono didn’t call.

Late at night, having napped a couple times, they weren’t tired, but were hungry again. They made sandwiches and opened beers and sat in front of the TV like they’d done too many times to count, and it was just like one of those times, as they made fun of an adventure movie with awful acting but really good special effects, only it was completely different, and not just because of the kissing. They started to fall asleep on the sofa, something they’d done before, but Danny pulled Steve up and took him upstairs to his bed.

The pizza box was still sitting on the chair by the bed, the bottle of wine was on the floor, and Steve’s guitar was on the bed. There were towels on the floor of the bathroom, wet clothes hanging on the shower door. Steve looked at the mess, looked at Danny, and knew. Yeah, Danny was a mess, made Steve a mess, but it was absolutely everything he’d ever wanted.

“Thank you,” he whispered, as he stood there in the moonlight. “For letting me in on the mess.”

Danny sucked in a breath, a touch raw with emotion. Closing his eyes, shaking his head: “With you, it’s not a mess,” he said on a sigh. And Danny wrapped his arms around Steve in what had to be the best hug he’d ever felt.

They both slept soundly that night... despite the mess.


End file.
